The One They've Never Met
by seinka
Summary: The Inquisitor failed to be in the right place during the right time and missed one of the companions. What could his fate look like, should he never encountered the reality of the Inquisition?


A carriage took turn from the Imperial Highway and headed to the rebuilt village of Lothering, where it stopped in front of the village's only shop. A blond man dressed like a warrior and carrying a swond on his belt jumped down, checked the load and entered the shop, leaving only a brown-haired woman, who was dressed in much lighter armour and with a cloak over her left side to watch over the carriage. She held the horses' reins in her right hand and patiently waited. After several moments the man returned with few bags of what looked like supplies, she gave him an apologetic smile and watched him to load the bags properly onto the carriage. After a short while he returned next to her, took the reins and prompted the horses to move.

Another man, bearded and with shaggy dark hair watched them from afar. Unlike theirs, his armour was old and rusty on few places and just from looking at them, he knew they had much more coin at their disposal than he had. And he also knew he wasn't the only one who noticed that. He decided to get going, slowly follow the carriage and maybe he'll be lucky enough and the bandits will leave something for him to scavenge.

After few hours of walking along the Imperial Highway, he finally heard voices ahead. He knew that curiosity killed the cat and he should stay away until the skirmish ended, but despite that, he walked slowly forward. It was already an evening and the trees around the way provided enough shadows for him to get closer. As he suspected, the couple made a small camp for night and five men in dirty armours and with weapons that weren't maintained in a long time decided they would be an easy prey. The bandits surrounded them, two men with crossbows were covering them from distance, three with swords were closing towards the pair, who had nowhere to run, as the carriage was right behind their backs. They both looked afraid, but not scared. They knew their chances were next to nothing, but fear hasn't taken over. Their eyes have seen much worse than this.

"Take the gold, if you must, but I won't let you touch my wife!" the blonde said with anger, standing between them and the woman, his sword drawn. His posture gave impression he could probably taken all three, if there weren't those with the crossbows. One bolt could easily end his life regardless of his swordfighting abilities.

The man in the shadows silently cursed himself. He knew he has already fallen low, but not too low to let a young woman to be raped and murdered. Thanks to his careful approach he was in almost ideal position. He drew his sword as quietly as possible, readied his shield and dashed into the nearer crossbowman. The impact knocked the bandit down and he thrusted his blade into his chest. The worn armour didn't protect any more than a thick coat. Then the man quickly raised his shield in anticipation of a bolt, but it never came. Instead he saw the other archer falling back with a dagger in his throat.

The blonde used the confusion to attack the nearest swordsman. As expected, he overcame his defenses within the first few blows and mortally wounded him, even though it was a two-on-one battle. The third bandid saw an opportunity and attacked the woman, but to his surprise she evaded his blows with an elegance of someone trained to fight with light weapons. Her counterattacks, though, were weak and unsure. Eventually she would have lost the battle should she remain fighting on her own, but the bearded man dealt with him quickly, at about the same time as the blonde finished his second opponent.

"These bandits won't trouble you any further," the man said when they looked at him with a question in their eyes after the battle.

"Thank you for helping us, ser," the blonde no more immediate danger and lowered his sword.

"Hmh," the man grunted and begun cleaning his sword.

"I am Mirinne Rutherford and this is my husband Cullen," the woman introduced them. "We're really grateful for your help, if it wasn't for you, ser, we wouldn't have come out of the skirmish so well. If you're not in hurry, you can join us for dinner, we were just preparing the food, when the bandits appeared."

"I will gladly accept, my lady," against his will he smiled.

"Oh, may we know the name of our saviour?" Mirinne asked when she picked up the dagger from the crossbowman's body and cleaned it with his clothes. He noticed she used only her right arm, hiding the left one under the cloak.

"I no longer have a name," he replied seriously, almost with a spite in his voice.

"Oh..." both of the couple looked at him with surprise.

"Then, we were saved by a nameless hero?" Mirinne forced herself to smile. "That sounds almost romantic. I'm already married, but you might get more lucky next time."

"I am hardly a hero," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, that was a bad joke," she breathed out. Then she grabbed the dead man's body and tried to drag it away.

"Wait, Miri, what are you doing?" Cullen stopped trying to make fire and ran to her.

"We need to get the bodies away from the camp. They'll likely attract scavengers..."

"I'll do it. You just sit down. I saw you fighting, are you injured?" he asked with a care.

"I'm fine, Cullen, don't worry about me," she smiled gently.

"Alright. Just sit down. Or you can unpack some food if you want. I'll take care of the bodies."

"I'll help you, ser," the nameless man got up and within several minutes they moved the dead bandits far enough from their place for the night. In the meantime Mirinne lit the fire with a rune and unpacked enough food for the three of them.

"Ser Cullen," the man without a name broke the silence during the dinner. "You showed an excellent swordsmanship during the battle. May I asked where did you train?"

"I was... a templar," he replied. "Though it's quite a time since I've been needed in the field."

"A templar? I thought that being a templar is for the whole life."

"For most it is. Quitting the templars is not as easy as quitting a regular army or a city guard, but it is possible, though I wouldn't have made it, if it wasn't for Miri's support."

"I didn't do anything," she blushed. "Anyway, ser, your accent is not Fereldan and your fighting abilities are good, as if you were a soldier. What brings someone like you to walking alone on the Imperial Highway and saving travellers who underestimated local bandits?"

"There's nothing to be said about me," the bearded man grunted. "I'm just a simple man who happened to pass by."

"Oh, I... I'm sorry, I didn't want to entreat..."

"It's alright, my lady, you just asked. But please, don't ask anymore."

Suddenly they heard sounds from the forest, as if something big was running towards them. Cullen and the nameless soldier jumped to their feet with swords drawn. A huge black mabari emerged from the bushed, dropped something that looked like a dead fennec and barked happily.

"Now, where have _you_ been?" Cullen sheathed his sword and scratched the hound behind its ears. "You were supposed to protect us, no? Why didn't you scare away those bandits?"

The dog barked again and wiggled its tail and paid no attention to his master's rebukes. Then it walked over to the nameless man and sniffed all around him. After few moments the hound barked with approval and retreated to safe distance to finish the fennec.

"It's common to see mabaris here in Ferelden, but this one is... huge," the man said with respect. "And looks smart too."

"Yes, he's a great companion and very helpful," Cullen agreed. "If he doesn't run away for the whole day."

For a while they talked about mabaris and other animals, until the sky went dark and they set out their bedrolls and settled to sleep. The mabari didn't appear to want to roam in any time soon, so they could entrust him with the watch.

The next morning, when Cullen and Mirinne woke up, the nameless man was gone.


End file.
